Dragon’s Secret: Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book Fourteen Page 4

  I take a few deep breaths. The harsh Tajss suns always drain me faster than I expected them to.

  At least the epis has made us better adapted to the desert climate here. I remember how terrible I felt in those tunnels before we left and found out there was a plant that could actually help us do so much better here on Tajss.

  Though that doesn't mean that I'm not still grateful to be out of the sunlight when we enter the shade of a ruined building. The roof is intact, and that's what I care about. I shrug my pack off my back and settle down onto the sand next to the other women.

  The first thing I do is take out my water to take a drink, but then I realize I only have one sip left. Sighing, I lower the water skin from my face. Before I can ask anyone if they have extra water, a large hand appears in front of me, holding its own water skin.

  My heart skips a beat. I know who it is right away.

  I look up slowly, my eyes meeting Archion's. I feel that same sizzle of attraction flow through me as I look into his golden gaze.

  I reach out to take the water from him. If my hand trembles slightly, only I know. I take a few conservative sips before I hand it back to him.

  "Thank you," I murmur.

  He simply nods at me, something passing between us as our eyes stay locked for an extended moment. Something almost tangible. I feel a warmth, as if his spirit is enveloping me, scanning me somehow. But that's crazy...isn't it? I don't even know anymore. After a few beats, he finally breaks the eye contact and steps away, releasing me.

  I let out a shaky breath, looking away. I don't know what that was.

  But he's holding himself at bay.

  So I will, too.

  6

  Archion

  We leave the ruins and continue to travel to what they say is their Tribe's home.

  I glance over at the lovely Nora again, a movement that has become as regular as breathing. My eye is drawn to her again and again. Even when I am not looking at her, I am fully aware of her, of her voice, her footsteps, where she is in position to me.

  I look away once more and deliberately push forward so I am in the lead. I cannot spend all of my time staring at an unknown female. So I do a circuit around the group, scouting ahead to ensure there are not more invaders nearby, or any other threats. I must keep the group safe. There are females depending upon me.

  I move back when I do not see anything of concern, traveling with the group for a period before I push forward again. I scan the horizon, keeping my gaze deliberately unfocused as I take in the familiar desert surroundings. It is the best way to track movement. Not seeing anything this time either, I turn to go back towards the group.

  Then a flicker of movement catches my eye. I turn back in that direction and focus, scanning with more deliberation. I do not see anything at first, but then something moves from around a large rock. Something with a deep green, almost black hide. I know what it is just from that first glimpse.

  And it is coming at us fast.

  I grip my lochaber with both hands and ready myself as I yell back a warning to the others.

  "Sorpola!"

  I hear the flurry of movement behind me that tells me they heard me, but I keep my eye on the approaching creature.

  Unlike most of the beasts with four limbs here on Tajss, it walks on its hind legs. The thick, scaled hide covers its massive body, punctuated with blade-sharp spikes on the tail. Its forelegs are short and curled up by its chest, basically useless. Not that it needs its arms when it has a wide mouth full of rows of sharp teeth in addition to that dangerous tail. The sight of it alone is intimidating.

  I brace myself as it runs towards us, saliva dripping from its now open mouth, its three thick claws at the front of its feet digging deeply into the sand.

  As it nears, it opens its mouth and hisses at me, displaying the deep-red interior. Not where I want to end up. So I’d better stay sharp.

  When it is near enough that I can see its small beady eyes, I leap quickly to onto a dune at my left and bounce from there onto the sorpola’s back. The hissing sound grows louder as I cut a deep gash from the base of its head to the middle of its back. It whips around to bite me, its breath hot and fetid with its previous kills as it wafts over me. But I am able to launch myself off of its back and away before it can get its teeth into me.

  Then the other Zmaj rush forward, attacking at the same time. I adjust my own forays into the fight, looking for spaces in which I can be helpful. When I see it almost catch Arawn, I deliberately whack its foreleg to get its attention, distracting it from its prey. I quickly leap backwards, just barely avoiding its mouth again.

  Padraig leaps up onto its back and digs his lochaber deep into the gash I have already made, slicing further into it.

  It lets out a hissing roar, its tail whipping out, Ragnar moving out of the way of the deadly appendage just in time. Arawn uses the distraction to leap forward and sink his lochaber into the creature's vulnerable underbelly. I use the opportunity to leap across its front and slash just under its head as it throws it back.

  When I land back on the sand in a crouch, I know the creature is near death before I even look. It has sustained too much damage. When I turn, I see the blood pouring out of multiple wounds as it tries once more to snap its jaws over Arawn, moving much more slowly. Too slow to be at all effective.

  It shakes its head once, twice. Then death finally claims it despite its efforts.

  I hear the females move closer in that silent moment after the death, as I and the rest of the Zmaj catch our breath, still ready for any threat that may present itself.

  I also realize this is another kind of opportunity, at least for me. I step towards Padraig, extending my hand in friendship. I know I must make the effort as I am the outsider here, the one that is suspect.

  He looks down at my offered hand. He does not respond at once. He just looks for long enough that I start to worry he will not accept the gesture. But then he meets my eyes again and reaches out to clasp my forearm in his strong hand.

  "Good fight," he says loudly and clearly, ensuring everyone hears.

  "Good battle," I agree much more quietly, smiling slightly in response. I can feel my shoulders relax.

  Then it is as though an unseen barrier has broken. The others gather around offering similar sentiments, reiterating specific sections of the actual fight. I know helping to protect the group wins me a certain level of trust, but I also see that offering my own hand in friendship first ingratiated me further. Good.

  "Come," Padraig finally says, halting the talk. "We must harvest the meat for the rest of the Tribe."

  I am glad the beast will be used rather than left to rot. Padraig and the others seem much more accepting of me as all of us gather around the felled beast and begin to harvest the meat with our hunting knives.

  As I cut into the thick hide, slicing into the meat, my gaze can’t help but go to Nora now that the danger is over, as it has ever since I crossed her path.

  She is the perfect sanctuary of a female. So easy to rest my eyes upon, to listen to.

  I watch her secretly while I make quick work of the animal in front of us. It seems no matter what I am doing, part of my mind rests on her at all times. Even during the battle, I was aware of her location though I did not divert my attention to her. I do not think that will change. I realize that as we pack up the meat, every member of the group carrying what they are able to.

  Then we continue on our way once more. As we do, my mind sinks into itself again.

  The Order consists of only the highest skilled dragons in the land, only the best of the Zmaj. For generations, we have learned to keep ourselves hidden, dispersed in undisclosed groups across Tajss. Each group carrying a piece of the puzzle that we have been charged to protect by the planetary consciousness herself. Each piece deliberately veiled in mystery.

  Now I have a new puzzle, a new mystery.

  Nora. A mystery my senses secretly delight in.

  This...human species
is unfamiliar to my kind. But the females have certainly long been prophesied. Not in any kind of detail, but enough that we always knew the Order, the Zmaj, would go on somehow. There is no doubt in my mind that these human females are clearly the ones that were foretold. However, knowing females were to come and being in the presence of one so alluring...

  I could not have predicted how I am reacting. It is not at all how I would have expected, had I thought about it. But it is not something I can control.

  As we travel for some more time, I continue to sneak glances at her, my weakness glaring to me. In a fairly short time, we reach more ruins, these somewhat larger than our last resting stop. Tajss is riddled with these reminders of the past. There is a sadness to seeing what we have lost, but I also believe they are a testament to what we can achieve, and so are not associated only with negative emotions.

  "We will take a short break here to eat, then we will travel the rest of the way without stopping. Tonight, we will be back home," Padraig announces.

  Murmurs of relief ripple through the crowd as we trudge into another building that is falling apart. Time and the harsh conditions make themselves known on every structure if it is not actively maintained.

  Meat is immediately taken out and set over a fire to cook, the delicious smells sending a hunger pang through my stomach. As I settle in next to the other Zmaj, listening to the murmur of conversation, I find myself enjoying the odd bonding taking place within the group. Perhaps they do not consider me one of their own, but I appreciate the inclusion nonetheless. Especially after so much time alone.

  "Do you know anything of these invaders?" Arawn asks as we wait for the meat to cook. "It seemed as though you were familiar with them." It is a pointed question.

  "I have seen them before," I admit. There is no reason to lie about that. "But I fear I do not know much more than you do about them. Have they attacked you before?"

  Perhaps this is an opportunity to absorb information as well.

  "Yes," Ragnar answers. "More than once..."

  As we continue to discuss invaders, I decide against disclosing too much of what I suspect. About what my own Zmaj brothers know. These invaders are not random or here accidentally.

  They are also a very real danger to us, a danger to be taken very seriously. The survival of every Zmaj and now every human on Tajss is at risk. However, information is power and knowledge should be doled out carefully. I need to know more about these people first.

  To that end, I observe both the Zmaj and the human females while I sit and rest. Glances and touches as well as conversation are all enough for me to deduce that every one of the group is mated.

  All save one.

  Relief at that knowledge flows through me. It is possible her mate waits for her in the Tribe's home, but I do not believe that is the case. Not with the way she behaves.

  I look across the fire at Nora, the warm light illuminating her soft features. She is a jewel so rare, so timid, I feel my protective instincts clamoring around her.

  Just as I feel increasingly attached to this mission. Dangerously attached. In a way I cannot afford. I must control myself.

  I look away from her lovely features, attempting to focus on the conversation with the other Zmaj about the invaders. I must not forget I am here to collect information.

  Luckily, as Padraig said, we do not stay in the ruins for long before we pack once again and continue upon our journey. I soon realize our destination is actually not much farther. The first indication we are near is when sunlight glances off a wall. An obviously, deliberately placed wall, set in front of the cave system.

  "Thank God we're almost there," I hear one of the females murmur behind me.

  I understand the sentiment. The journey may not have taken much time, but it has been quite eventful so far. We have run into more than our fair share of danger.

  When we pass across the wall, our arrival is hailed by a mixture of humans and Zmaj living in the cave system.

  As I look around, I am struck by the curious blend of the two, shown everywhere I look. There are human females in what must be the kitchen area, cooking, using the pots and utensils that are obviously Zmaj made. Throughout the area that I can see, there are soft touches that most definitely did not come from the Zmaj, pretty things like fresh flowers in small vases, small pillows, little candles. I see two Zmaj stand up from either side of a square board that has smaller squares painted on it and small figures set on those squares in what appears to be a deliberate pattern. A game of some kind, perhaps? But not one of the many Zmaj games.

  The cave system itself, of course, is obviously influenced by the Zmaj. From the way I can see things are ordered, to the wall built in a classic manner, all the way to the machine in the corner that appears to be powering the shields. I frown at the machine as I reconsider that. It looks to have used old Zmaj technology, but with changes. Perhaps another human touch?

  I am distracted from that puzzle as I hear small, high-pitched voices that abruptly quiet down. When I turn back, it is to see hatchlings. I stare down at them, shocked.

  Hatchlings.

  It has been so long since I have seen a young one that I stare. I know it is rude, but I cannot stop. These adorable creatures are clearly a mixture of their Zmaj fathers and their human mothers.

  Their soft, round faces are punctuated by tiny little horns, small translucent wings, and the suggestion of scales. But their coloring varies more than the Zmaj population's does, from their hair, to their skin tones, something they have clearly inherited from their human sides. We are a desert people after all, with dark hair and tan skin. While I stare at the small creatures, they stare back up at me with large eyes, as if just as shocked to see me as I am to see them. Why would that be? But I know they are shocked.

  I heard them speaking just moments ago, but now they say nothing, simply staring at me with what appears to be awe in their eyes. As if I am a higher creature, something to idolize. I do not know what to make of it. Before I can gather words to say to these tiny people, Padraig speaks up once more.

  "Everyone, this is Archion. We met him out in the desert while we were gathering meteorite glass. He helped us battle attacking invaders, as well as a surprise zemlja and sorpola." He looks over at me. "His aide was needed," he adds more quietly.

  I hear murmurs among the gathering crowd before an older Zmaj steps forward. The conversation settles down around us. He is obviously a highly respected member of their Tribe.

  "It seems as though you have had quite a journey back," he says, addressing Padraig before then turning his attention to me. "We would like to speak with you, Archion. But first—you must be hungry. We will eat dinner first."

  The female in the kitchen area with the dark brown eyes takes that announcement as her cue.

  "Food's up! Here, Archion," she addresses me directly, reaching out to take my arm. "Have a seat. We love all kinds of help here, and I’m really glad that you helped bring everybody back safely." She settles me down in a chair at a nearby table. "I'm Delilah, by the way," she adds almost as an afterthought.

  "Thank you, Delilah," I say, taken with her genuine warmth.

  "It's the least we can do," she replies, waving the gratitude off.

  "I made a plate for you," a softer voice says from my left.

  When I turn to look, there is the lovely Nora with a plate laden with food. Meat and what appears to be vegetables. They must have a garden nearby. I take the plate she shyly offers, feeling a rush of warmth.

  "My thanks," I say, my voice lowering.

  She nods and quickly backs away, her cheeks red with embarrassment. It only endears her to me further. I want to draw her into my arms, comfort her. But now is not the time. I do not know if it ever will be.

  Before I sink into that thought, I am distracted by Arawn and Padraig settling down on either side of me with their own plates.

  "How did you know the zemlja was coming?" Arawn asks before he takes a large bite of food. "There
was no indication I could detect."

  "Oh, well..."

  I settle into a conversation with them, the words coming much more easily than I would have expected. I find myself actually enjoying the company, the food, the setting of this home. And it is a home. They have succeeded in making this more than just a cave. It will be difficult to part with the hospitality of the males, of Delilah.

  Of Nora.

  But I remind myself that I must. It would not be smart to become too attached here, when I know my stay will be necessarily brief. It is a sobering thought. Even so, before I’m aware much time has passed, my plate is empty and dinner is over. But I am not left to ponder what my next move will be.

  Padraig stands at my side as soon as I am done eating, as if he was waiting for it.

  "The Tribe Elders, Kalessin and Falkosh, wish to speak with you."

  I look over to where he gestures towards two older Zmaj, one of which is the same Zmaj who spoke up earlier about dinner.

  "Of course," I say, rising to my feet. There is no way not to meet with more of their leadership. So I follow them to a cave that is somewhat separated for privacy. I keep my face and body neutral, not wanting to show that I am worried or nervous in any way, lest they read too much into it.

  "We appreciate the aid you have given to the Tribe," Kalessin begins.

  "Yes," Falkosh agrees, watching me carefully. "We are truly grateful for that." I nod, knowing gratitude is not the reason for this meeting. I am proven correct quite quickly. "However, may we ask—where were you traveling to? What was your final destination? What journey did you delay in order to accompany our people safely home?"

  The questions are measured, delivered carefully. They are clearly attempting not to cross too many boundaries, not to make me so uncomfortable that my guard will rise. Unfortunately for them, my guard never lowers. I know I cannot give too much away with my answers.

  "Simply to my own home," I reply with just as much care as they have shown. I suppose it is true, as far as it goes. Their expressions do not change, the unreadable looks upon their faces showing just how wary they are of me. I do not blame them. They do not know of me, just as I do not know of them. But I still do not tense, attempting to appear as nonthreatening as I can. "But I wanted to ensure your people arrived safely, especially considering that the group included females."